Into Chaos and Old Night
by Alex Prosper
Summary: Unaware of his incestuous relationship, fifteen year old Dante asks his mysterious lover a question. V/D.


Disclaimer: Characters and affiliated materials don't belong to me. They are property of Master Hideki Kamiya.

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Into Chaos and Old Night

_Behold the Throne_

_Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread_

_Wide on the wasteful Deep; with him enthroned_

_Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things,_

_The consort of his reign_

* * *

They each bear pride in their nurturer and origins; each holding themselves aloft and uniquely clever by criticizing the flaws of those dissimilar, but never knowing their virtues…never desiring to ask if there were any. The world, ignorant and vile, forgot the nature of its essence. Sense and order were foreigners. Reason and law: neighbors who never bothered to step on the other's lawn.

It was enough to sustain Vergil for the rest of his life, this enigma. So much to know, so little time given to even a half-breed to know it all. The ostensible behavior of humanity sufficed to rouse a lifetime of disgust in him, but its arcane nature filled him with fathomless wonder and, perhaps, if he dared to open himself a little, a small, wary bit of adoration. He would not make the same mistakes his father did.

That was why he never believed that a single person could evoke all that plentiful wonder and more, yet there he lay beneath him, moon-pale hair spread across the pillow like liquid silver in the deep sunlight of early evening. Dante's cornflower blue eyes darkened with lust, glistened with amusement that was indubitably mischievous.

He was fifteen that day. So was Vergil but Dante did not know the masked stranger was his twin. He could never know. Vergil had tracked him down for years. When he finally found him, he had waited for the mercenary taking care of the younger twin to leave for a job. Then with a black mask he unfurled at the bottom to free his lips, he had seduced his brother every night, though it had not been his intention at first.

Vergil had never figured out what he wanted to do once he found his twin brother. All he knew was that no matter how hard he tried he could not forgive their mother for running away with Dante and leaving her other son behind. What Vergil had not expected was to be moved by Dante's charm which turned Vergil's vindictiveness into something else, something without label.

_This_ was wrong, by law, by order, by what guided men away from barbarism. But none of that could explain quite as well as the raw logic of the earliest caveman that _this_ was inevitable. This sensual, dangerous magnetism between brothers.

Vergil leaned down, slick torso against hot flesh, and whispered into a red-flushed ear, "Devil."

Dante laughed and wrapped his arms around Vergil's waist, licking his ear in response.

The older twin shivered and immediately thought about Dante's naïve arrogance. All pride in his origins, without understanding it, held himself aloft by sneering down on other demons, never bothering to ask what virtues lay within that part of his heritage. Dante...or Tony Redgrave as their mother had called him after running away...thought himself unique, but was really not as dissimilar as he thought himself to everyone in Hell. The only virtue and curse that stood out above the rest was his love for humanity, like their father, and it was this combination: a reflection of Hell and Sparda both within Dante that lured Vergil in; made _this _between them completely sensible.

Wrong could make perfect sense, unfortunately. Only unread, unthinking troglodytes would say that something, even passion, did not make sense simply because their dull wits could not grasp any sense out of it - or did not want to.

"Poser," Dante mumbled suddenly, breaking the fragile melody of crashing flesh and soft groans.

"Oh?"

Another laugh and Dante lifted himself slightly to rest his chin on Vergil's shoulders as he ran hands and fingernails across the skin of his back. "You're not an impervious ghost, Aineas. You're…" Nails dug in and Vergil hissed, feeling the heated strips of torn tissue—some, no doubt, would bleed. "…very much flesh and blood."

Vergil felt an exquisite pressure between his thighs when Dante groped him boldly, and released a repressed growl through his nostrils.

"And a lot of that blood seems to be piling here."

"Cheeky little devil."

"That's what you love about me," Dante chimed back with a snarky little smirk.

"Thatis what makes you no better than any other rogue in this world you live in, Tony. You're just another cheeky little devil."

"What you love about me," Dante repeated, grounding his cheekiness further.

Seldom did anything amuse Vergil enough to steal a chuckle, but Dante's unwittingly ironic, and painfully truthful remark did. Vergil laughed softly and his younger twin looked pleased with himself. He probably thought himself special for the small but tough theft.

Lying back down on the plush pillow, Dante stared up into his eyes solemnly, all playfulness gone. His hand was still firmly around Vergil's stiff manhood, while the other ran down the masked man's naked chest. "Where are we going," he asked, and Vergil instantly grew shocked to see a fleeting glint of worry reflected in the other teenager's otherwise flushed and saucy visage. It was gone instantly, covered by a mask of pomposity.

Vergil thought about it. It did not take long for an answer to spring up in his brilliant mind. Bringing his head back down, he kissed Dante full on the lips, snaking his tongue into his twin's warmth. It was gentle and languid; a perfect expression of the magnificent afterglow from their recent fuck, rekindling their lust.

Vergil ended the kiss soon and finally answered, "Into Chaos and Old Night."

A delicate little frown creased Dante's brow then disappeared. "What?"

"Where we are going, Tony. Into Chaos and Old Night."

It took a moment for the reference to dawn on him. Their mother read them these old epics-she named them after two such poets. So despite Dante being a bit of a dunce, he was not surprised to see his twin catch the meaning.

Dante frowned again. "Why are you quoting Milton?" Then he laughed and squeezed Vergil's crotch with a smirk, evoking a sharp hiss that barely restrained the masked man's moans. "You mean this is leading us to the Abyss? How melodramatic."

Young, naive Dante thought Vergil had made a joke.

"Because what we're doing is very wrong, Tony," he replied as if speaking to a child. In some ways he was.

"Why," asked the child. Whether such honesty was genuine or false Vergil could not tell. Dante was a master at playing innocent even though sometimes he was.

The answer was because not only were Vergil and Dante brothers, but enemies; the strongest and deadliest of enemies. Dante wanted revenge on demon-kind and Vergil needed demon-kind to attain the power he desired. Dante was too naive to see the bigger picture and would surly fight him one day, against all Vergil stood for.

For now though, Vergil was content to lay in his brother's arms, just like when they were small children-those fleeting days when their family was together, Sparda behind the facade of a mortal man, their mother a normal woman, and the twins playing in the yard together.

No. Not like then. It was different now. Forbidden.

Refusing to answer, he removed Dante's hand from his crotch and gripped his legs, spreading them wide apart.

"Hey, isn't it my turn? You just had me."

"No. We agreed this was my night. We're not playing tag, you're it. My night. Mine."

"I get it!"

"Glad you agree with me, Tony," he said, and because he knew the other teenager would retort angrily to what he was about to say, he positioned himself and added, "Now that you know how easy it is, you'll learn to do it more often." With that he buried himself within Dante's exquisite warmth, still wet and hot with Vergil's milk. Vergil all too happily released a moan of pure bliss while Dante cried out in surprise, joy and indignation mixed.

Vergil chuckled a second time that night and dug his teeth into his twin's neck.

"Bastard…unh!" Dante gritted his teeth to keep from moaning and glared up at his masked lover. "T-tomorrow night's my—uh—night! Don't think I'll let you get—ooh!"

Vergil had slammed in rather too roughly, but it did the job and shut the boy up.

Whatever revenge Dante planned for him tomorrow night was nothing. Vergil was more experienced with containing his reactions when subjected to extreme conditions, and Dante was the lucky out of the two to have been pampered by their mother when the family was forced to separate and hide. No doubt, after Eve's death a few years ago, Dante had realized he had to toughen up and the brat just wanted to act tough now that he was starting the life of a merc.

But Dante was right: Vergil did love this about him. The disgusting arrogance and ignorance; the layers upon layers of enigmas to be explored just under the surface of his acts - even, for some twisted reason, that likeness to their father and mother both that Vergil was devoid of. Like Dante was their true son.

Vergil both hated and loved that about his brother.

Abyss; chaos; the essence of the universe - of man. Even Vergil was not exempt, much to his despair. He hated Dante, despised him even more for luring his own brother in with his fiendish wiles and making him do stupid things every night. He loathed Dante's ignorance, naively enjoying their dangerous little games without seeing the consequences ahead, without being aware of what _this _meant for them.

But the overwhelming heat that sucked him in was bittersweet, as painful as it was beautiful. With these dark thoughts Vergil thrust in hard and fast, venting and surfing a black ocean of blazing lust and passion relinquished, rules and law drowned in the current of their need for each other.

He was gorgeous, that mischievous Satan writhing beneath him, mouth a gaping chasm releasing scented moans and pleads for more. Young cheeks glowed bright and moon-pale hair, shining silver and orange in the dying sun, clung to his sweet face with sweat from their heat. His white neck swelled from a throat teeming with wanton cries.

Vergil fucked him hard into the mattress, pressing their torsos firmly close, his length embedded to the hilt inside Dante's squirming hips.

White flames engulfed his mind, his senses. Vergil kissed Dante voraciously and chanted, "My night. Mine. Mine. Mine," as he came mightily into the pulsing little crevice gripping him deliciously.

Dante moaned and gasped wildly as he came soon after, wrapping an arm around Vergil's waist and pulled him down for a sweltering kiss.

As both rode out their climax, bodies wracked with dying spasms, the fire between their joined lips dimmed and became an ebbing flow of harsh breaths and velvety, swollen flesh in glutted passion.

Vergil lay spent beside Dante. His twin brother. His soon-to-be enemy. But since when was sex exclusive to lovers? If Dante thought that was what they were because Vergil was tucking back his chaotic array of sweat-laden locks away from his face with deceptively gentle care, or because Vergil allowed him to caress his shoulder and arm down to his side; or because Vergil lied his head down on Dante's chest, then the boy would soon be in for a wake up call. When Vergil finally stood victorious in his conquest and revealed his true identity, Dante would understand they were never lovers.

It did not take a minute for Dante to fall asleep. Vergil would not sleep but watched as the sky grew darker outside the tall windows overlooking a glittering city. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, and the first of night began to blanket their world. He was reminded of Lucifer's journey through chaos in Paradise Lost, reaching the shores of darkness just before the light. There the fallen prince had met Chaos and Old Night, ancestors of all in the universe, even God.

"_Where are we going," _his brother had asked.

[FIN]


End file.
